My Little Mermaid
by MsMacBeth10
Summary: I am Finnick Odair. I have been both tribute, victor, and now mentor. No one can resist my charms. At least, that's what I've thought, until Annie Cresta crept along. Companion to Finnick's Charm.
1. Chapter 1

The day when I had been announced as the winner of the 65th Hunger Games was, no doubt, one of the best days of my life.

But one of my worst days?

It was the day when one of my own mentees, no, I mean, protégés, didn't make it. That is something which doesn't usually happen. My protégés can get pretty close to the end, being Careers, and yet, that boy was different. His name was Dany Cresta, and he was one of the nicest, most grammar-loving boys I've ever laid eyes on. He was friendly to everyone, even to the other tributes, despite not having much skill in anything. His rope tying was clumsy, and he barely had any muscles at all. He was not fit to be a part of the Hunger Games. In fact, he shouldn't have been reaped that day.

That fateful day when his family came to bid farewell to him, I noticed one girl in particular. She didn't pay attention to me, though, as she was too focused on Dany Cresta. There was something about this girl that I wasn't going to forget anytime soon...

And I noticed her again when I returned to District 4 after Dany's loss. I had said, _"I'm sorry he didn't make it,"_ to the Crestas, and the look in the girl's eyes—she was hiding behind her mother, but I could make her out quite well—was unforgiving. It was a look that clearly suggested that she hated me for not bringing her brother back, when I was supposedly such a good mentor. Seeing that pained look, filled with hatred, was enough to tell me that I wasn't liked by the entire female population of Panem.

I wanted to tell her then that I didn't want to be a mentor. I didn't want to see my own district's tributes die in the arena. I didn't want to be a bloody _prostitute_. I didn't want any of it. But sometimes people have no choice…it's not like her brother had a choice in getting reaped.

I didn't have a choice in telling _her_ the truth, either, because telling her would only mean endangering her further. If only I could tell the nameless girl the truth, I would be able to console her. Her brother has escaped the awful fate of a victor. She should be pleased. She should be relieved. Hell, she should even thank me for sparing her brother from my fate.

Instead, her entire family behaved as though I was the one responsible for Dany Cresta's death—which was technically true, now that I've thought about it so much—and I couldn't take it anymore. I left their house without another word. I knew they must hate me, and I knew I deserved to be hated. I didn't want my popularity, if only so the girl could understand my feelings. I didn't know why I cared so much about the Crestas, and that thought still puzzles me till this very day. It's not like I've felt this way for my other protégés.

I can never forget Dany Cresta, or his sister, or their mother. They have haunted me until this day, and there is no way I can escape them, except when I'm tying knots while listening to the gentle lapping, soothing sounds of the sea. Out here, with the sea breeze ruffling my hair, I can feel at ease.

It's the only thing that can calm me, but even then, it appears that I cannot escape my troubles.

Because, one moment, I am paying attention to my rope, and the next, I become aware of the form of a person standing behind me. I had not noticed them in my concentration, and I hate letting my guard down like so. I do _not _like people creeping up on me.

I look up and meet the eyes of Dany Cresta's sister. He must've mentioned her name sometime during his last few days with me, but I can't remember what it is to save my life. I really just want to apologize to her and get it over with, but the words are stuck in my throat. I swallow before finally managing, "I'm sorry."

"Is that how people greet each other nowadays? By saying 'I'm sorry'?" The girl responds, and immediately I know that I am not welcomed. Not by her.

Or, perhaps she's testing me. To see whether I still remember. "Your brother," I answer simply, and for a moment, she appears stunned. As if she hasn't expected me to remember.

She gives herself a small shake and asks, "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you _doing here?" I ask back. I have every right to know why she's here to bother me. At her glare, I can't help but smirk, knowing that I have taunted her successfully.

"What else would I do on a beach?" she spits out, and I see her eyes wandering down to my chest—no surprise there—as she speaks. She appears to have noticed me watching her, because she adds dryly, "If you'll excuse me, I have better things to do."

I have encountered too many fans. What I say next is almost automatic—"Do you _really _have better things to do…when _I'm _here?" I ask her, winking.

"Oh, lots," she says, sounding rather proud for not giving in to my seducing. "I am not crazy," she continues, "unlike the hundred-something girlfriends that you have."

That's where she's wrong. One pet peeve of mine is when someone jumps to conclusions too soon, without enough evidence. Despite having many female fans, none of them are my girlfriend. So, I tell her, "I'm single."

But unfortunately she takes it the wrong way, because she yells loudly, "OI! FINNICK ODAIR IS SINGLE! FEEL FREE TO MARRY HI—"

I didn't want anyone to hear such a statement, and, thinking fast, I leap up and cover her mouth with one hand. She immediately begins to struggle, and I tighten my hold on her even further. I wasn't about to let her escape so quickly. She then tries to elbow me in my stomach, and instinctively I move to one side and lift her off the ground. My eyes shine as I think, _there's no way she can escape from me now!_

That's when she gets another idea, and manages to clamp down hard on my hand. I let out a yelp of pain, and accidentally my grip on her loosen.

Well, I guess she wins this time.

"I hate you!" She screams shrilly, "I HATE YOU! I HATE HATE HATE YOU!"

I have always been surrounded by people who "love" me, and I don't know how to react to someone who hates me, particularly people who aren't a part of my family. Should I apologize again? I don't know, but I try, "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't going to bring my brother back!" She retorts, and I can see that her eyes are red and puffy.

"I really _am _sorry," I insist. What is wrong with her? Why can't she just accept my apology? It wasn't like I killed her brother on purpose! I hated what I did next, but I wanted to get away from her as fast as possible. Remembering that today was another reaping day, I say, "I'll...see you at the reaping."

Then I turn and walk away.

"Are you a man or not? Don't walk away from your mistakes!" She yells after me. She does have a point, but there is no way I, Finnick Odair, will ever admit it. The last thing I hear are her sobs before she fades into the distance.

Only then I realize that I've left my rope in the sand.

* * *

**Disclaimer: No, I am not rich. There's no way I own The Hunger Games, either. **

**A/N: The much awaited first chapter of the companion to _Finnick's Charm _told from Finnick's POV! (Note: it will not be updated very often, due to school reasons. I hope you understand.) **

**Anyway.. I'm not very skilled with writing boys' POVs, so hopefully it turned out all right.. X3 **

**Leave a review? **


	2. Chapter 2

I turn my heels in preparation to return to the spot where I'd left the Cresta girl, and that's when I notice a pair of eyes watching me from behind the bushes. I frown and pick my way toward the guy, stiffening when I realize that he's wearing the usual Peacekeeper uniform. He looks oddly familiar, like I've seen him somewhere before.

"Don't you have something better to do?" I ask as a greeting, and the man half-jump. "Something like...peacekeeping?"

He turns his gaze on me. "Don't _you _have something better to do, Mr. Odair?" _  
_

Oh, no. He means that I should be in the Capitol, getting secrets out of women instead of hanging out on the beach with that girl. He knows that I had ignored Snow's letter and remained in Four when I shouldn't have.

I had stayed because it was my brother, Davis', fourteenth birthday a week ago. I didn't want to leave my brother, and I wanted to stay and celebrate it because I had literally missed every single one of Davis' birthdays since I became a victor. It wasn't fair, and I didn't want him to be suspicious of anything, so I had to stay at least once. And Snow did not like it, not one bit.

This was a special birthday for Davis, too, because fourteen is also the age when I won five years ago. He's training in hopes of becoming a Career, despite me telling him not to. I don't want him to win. If he ever does get selected and win, he'll end up with the same fate as me, and that is something I definitely do _not _want for him.

"It _is_ reaping day. I'll be back in the Capitol before you know it," I tell the Peacekeeper now. I suddenly realize that he's one of Snow's most trusted Peacekeepers, and I've often seen him lingering around the president. That's where I've seen him before.

The man scowls. "That's not the same thing, Mr. Odair. Remember where your loyalty lies." He gestures to the Cresta girl, and I follow his hand to see that another girl is speaking to her. "Do you _know _her, Mr. Odair?"

I shrug as nonchalantly as I can. "Who, her? I mentored her brother in one of the previous Games."

"You know very well that's not what I mean, Mr. Odair. What I mean is—"

I'm tired of this conversation already. It's pointless, because the poor girl already hates me and the Peacekeeper is implying that there must be a relationship between us. There's isn't one. I smirk at the Peacekeeper as I say, "No, there obviously isn't. She hates me. But thanks for the idea."

At once I regret saying it, but there's no taking the words back now. "You're welcome, Mr. Odair. I can even help you get closer to her, if you know what I mean." With a cruel laugh, he continues, mocking my earlier words, "It _is _reaping day, you know?"

He pats my shoulder and walks away before I can speak.

I understand what he's implying. That the girl will be reaped and somehow I'll end up mentoring her, despite the fact that Mags usually gets the girls and I get the boys. One of the only times when the tributes are mentored by the opposite gender is when...

Is when...

My eyes widen in horror. No, it can't be! It can't turn out like this!

I hate Snow. More than ever, and there's not a thing I can do about it.

I look at the girl again—her friend had left—and suddenly I don't have the heart to go and speak to her. I should warn her, but I shouldn't. It's against the rules. There are too many rules.

Straightening, I take a deep breath and approach her, knowing that I'll have to get my rope back. "Cresta!" I call, hoping that my voice sounds fine.

She doesn't notice anything, which is good. "Odair," she acknowledges me coolly. "Nice of you to show up again."

"Trust me, I don't want to see any more of you than I have to," I return. I hope this would be what I would normally say. It's not like I want to be her friend now that I've already troubled her. "But I left a piece of rope here earlier, so I came back to get it," I add, wondering why I had just told her more than I had planned. If I'm not careful, the fact that she'll be reaped might accidentally slip out, too.

"Oh...you mean this?" She holds up the rope, but it's different from before. I stare at it with amazement as I see that every one of my most complicated knots are gone. She untied them all.

"You...untied the knots," I manage with surprise. "No one has been able to untie those knots before," I explain, recalling the time when I had dared anyone who was good at knot-tying to try. The reward was my autograph.

It wasn't surprising that most of the people who attempted were girls, yet none of them had been able to untie those knots. One girl even tried cutting the knots with a knife, and even that didn't work.

It really is something for the Cresta girl to untie them. I ask, "You're really skilled at tying knots, aren't you?"

"You...can say that," she says hesitantly.

Ah, so we're actually having a normal conversation. About knots. It's not something typical teenagers would discuss casually, but for her, this is a good start. Because the next time we're speaking, I'll probably be giving her advice on how to stay alive. If she has it in her.

I bend down and take the rope from her, accidentally brushing her hand with my own. I can feel the stab of electricity at my touch, and when I look at her I see that she can sense it, too. This has never happened with the other female members of the population. It's strange, and for some unexplained reason I have a feeling that it's not from her hating me.

I focus on her hand, and I can see the consequences of hours of rope-tying—rough scratches and cuts. "I'm impressed," I force out, referring to her skills.

She remains silent, and I stand back up; the moment's gone. I want to give her a heads up, that she'll be reaped, but what I do get out is, "Well, _this _time I'll see you at the reaping."

I can't stay here any longer. I can't let her know beforehand that she'll be picked. It's too dangerous.

I give her one last look as I walk away from her for the second time that day. I won't turn my back on her in the actual Games, but I don't want to reveal anything if I stay too long now.

As I leave, Snow's voice echoes in my head.

_"Mr. Odair, I must congratulate you on becoming a mentor at last. It is a special honor for someone so young like yourself. And, don't forget the rules, young man! ...It's also quite obvious that the mentors will mentor tributes of the same gender, with these exceptions...should there be only one mentor, or if the mentor's siblings of the same gender are chosen. Do not forget..."_

Snow, how can I forget something so important? How can I forget such a rule?

Because this is the rule which confirms what I've suspected—that both my brother and Cresta will end up reaped for the 65th Hunger Games.

Damn these rules.

* * *

**Disclaimer: No, I am not rich. There's no way I own The Hunger Games, either. **

**A/N: The second chapter of the companion to _Finnick's Charm _told from Finnick's POV! (Note: it will not be updated very often, due to school reasons. I hope you understand.) **

**Special shoutout and thanks to GirlInThatDress for being the first (and only) reviewer! Hopefully there'll be more this chapter? :3 **

**Reviews motivate me to write more, as I've said before. So...don't be scared to comment! I won't bite! **


	3. Chapter 3

On my way back, I encounter my mother, holding various shopping bags in her arms. "Oh, Finn!" She calls, noticing me. "Perfect timing! I could do with a hand on these...omph!" As she speaks, she almost doubles back from the weight.

I can tell she's struggling with them, and so I quicken my pace until I'm taking the bags from her. She beams at me, and I say, "It's the least I could do, Mother."

"Now, I'm just being selfish," she says brightly. "Having the Capitol's favorite victor take care of my groceries?" Her voice is light and teasing, but there is the message hidden deep within. She's implying that the Capitol wouldn't be very happy if they found out I was carrying groceries for my mother like a good boy. I don't care, though. I really don't care what the Capitol thinks about family matters.

"You can have me all to yourself, Mother," I say carefully, remembering that anyone could be overhearing our conversation.

Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "Oh, if only I were a couple of years younger!"

"Ugh, that's nasty!" I sniff, because it's disgusting even for me. I change the subject. "Why didn't Dave help with the groceries, eh?"

Dave is a nickname Davis only permits his family to call him by. I rarely use it, but sometimes I think Dave sounds a lot cooler than Davis. Mother shakes her head in mock-dissappointment. "Oh, he said he had to get ready for the reaping. You know, with boy stuff. Boys," she adds, as though she can't believe how ridiculous boys are.

"Oh, I know," I tell her, half-smirking.

I'm glad my mother at least has gotten over our father's death. There are still moments when she turns, about to call for our father, and then stands in a daze when she realizes that he's not there. Sometimes I pretend that I'm Father when she's drifting off into space, which makes her cry even more because I think she knows who I really am. I also catch her speaking to herself sometimes, asking Father for his opinion on whatever she was concerned with. She would say things like, "Oh, Dan, would you like the yellow better or the blue?" or "Dan, do you think we should go to the beach or have a picnic?"

She acts this way only when Davis isn't around, but even then Davis must have noticed, being smart like he is. Once, Davis even questioned whether our mother was crazy, to which I had snapped back, "Don't you dare say things like that about our mother!"

Nowadays, she's more clearer and actually jokes with us, but I've noticed that she behaves more like a child than an adult. It's as if she's in her own little world, and being a child is safe and no one can hurt her. I don't want to think whether her like this way is better or worse, but at least she's still here.

It's better for me to take care of her than for her to worry about me, anyway.

"What's up with you?" Mother presses as we walk. "It's like you've seen a ghost!"

"Huh, what?" Then I realize she must be referring to what I was doing before bumping into her, so I say casually, "Oh, that. Ran across a Career training on the beach, that's all."

It's not true, and I can tell she can tell that I'm lying. Cresta is neither Career nor training for the Games. She won't have a chance at all, because unlike me, she won't be using a trident to finish off her opponents. I doubt she can even kill.

"So that's why you look a little ruffled," she says, and I'm grateful to her for not asking furthur.

"Yes," I agree, in my tone of voice that clearly screeches it's final. "That's why..."

I don't have the heart to tell her that Davis will be reaped, too, and it won't be by chance. All I do know is that I can't let the Capitol have him, the Capitol can't control him, because he's my little brother and I will do anything to protect him. He's the only thing

Even if it means for him the die in the arena, he'll at least escape the horror of afterwards.

I can't let the Capitol take Davis from me. I clench my hand into a fist, finalizing the decision. I'll do what it takes to get the Cresta girl home, because I've already failed the Crestas once and failing them again would only accentuate the fact that I'm powerless against the Capitol.

Against Snow.

Mother has noticed that I'm acting strange. I reassure her that everything's fine as I drop off her groceries, and decide on a whim pay a visit to Mags before the reaping.

I enter her house in the Victor's Village without bothering to knock, because Mags is like a second mother to me and has never stopped taking care of me, even after my Games. She nods to me in greeting. After Mags had a stroke two years ago, she's lost her ability to talk, but I can still understand her, crystal clear.

"I hate the Capitol," I say bluntly as I walk in. Mags raises an eyebrow, warning me that even in her house we're still being watched. But I really don't care, because they've already decided that my brother is going to die, so what's the point? "They're going to send Dave and the Cresta girl this time."

"Why?" Mags asks. I know she's genuinely worried about me. "How?"

Turning to her, I say, "I bumped into the Cresta girl earlier."

Mags nods. "Annie."

So _that_'s what her name is! How can I forget? I wonder how Mags can remember what her name is... "Anyway, some Peacekeeper saw me speaking to her, and you know how I'm supposed to be in the Capitol but I didn't go because of Dave's birthday? Well, Snow has promised hell for me."

She puts a hand on my arm and squeezes surprisingly hard for someone so...so...fragile. But I know she's not trying to comfort me, because Mags is Mags and she does things in her own strange, caring way. She never says "I'm sorry" to me about anything, and I can't thank her enough for it.

"Already hell," Mags points out.

My shoulders slump. "You've got a point."

She's right. It's already hell for me, and things are only getting worse from here. I don't know whether knowing that things will get worse is good, or if it's only going to make things even more worse. "I'll be a good mentor," I vow softly.

Mags smiles fondly at me, revealing a mouthful of gaping holes where her teeth should be. "You are good mentor," she says, "because I am your mentor."

It's the longest sentence she has said for a long time.

"She will win," Mags promises. She must've guessed what my plan is.

"How do you know?" I can't trust what people say these days.

"I just do," Mags insists, and I want to believe her so badly it hurts. "I leave her to you. Dave to me." It'll hurt her, watching my brother die, yet it's for the best. My life isn't the kind that Davis would want if he wins. I know it, even if he doesn't. He might never understand, but I know that if he did, he'll thank me.

And it's unusual for mentors to know who the tributes will be beforehand, but it's different in my case. I know, because I'm Finnick Odair. I know, because Snow has sent the message that I am controlled by him.

But I'll send _him _the message, when Annie Cresta steps up for her after-the-Games interview, that I have power, too.

"Annie Cresta," I mutter under my breath, "It appears that the odds are in your favor this year."

Because I'm Finnick Odair, I can do anything.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Do I seem like the type of person to own the Hunger Games? **

**A/N: The third chapter of the companion to _Finnick's Charm _told from Finnick's POV! (Note: it will not be updated very often, due to school reasons. I hope you understand.) **

**I think by having Finnick's mother act somewhat like Annie, he'll have more experience with Annie when the time comes. XD dun dun dun.**

**I really shouldn't be writing this because I have a health test in the afternoon which I need to study for, but I can't help it. Because of reviews! XD Reviews motivate me to write more, as I've said before (hey, that rhymes!). So...don't be scared to comment! I won't bite! Thank you to all who have reviewed so far! :D **


	4. Chapter 4

"Davis," I begin, but stop myself at the last minute.

It's reaping time, and I'm supposed to be sitting by the stage next to the other mentors. Instead, I'm walking with Davis, knowing that the next time we can actually talk to each other will be on the train en route to the Capitol. I can't even visit him during the private family and friend time, being a mentor.

Davis stops. He knows that when I use his full name, I'm serious. "Don't worry about me, Finnick," he says casually. "If I'm reaped, good. If I'm not reaped, it's good, too. I don't mind, either way, because I'll win for sure. I've been training all this time, haven't I?"

_No, you won't win_, I think sadly, _I won't let you win. It's better if you don't win._

"I—" I try, and for the second time I can't bring myself to say what I want to. I really just want to tell him that he'll be reaped along with Annie Cresta. I can't, though. "Good luck," I bit out at last, and with a nod, Davis heads off to join the fourteen-year-olds.

I find Mags among the mentors and sit beside her. She wordlessly takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly as Locketta Harmes, our district escort, practically dances onto the stage. She can barely contain her excitement, and it's sickening.

The reaping begins just like any other, but rather than paying attention to the screen, I scan the sea of faces. Normally, I don't care who the tributes are. Not this time.

Because I _know _who the tributes are this time, thanks to the Peacekeeper's tip. I locate Davis easily.

It's the Cresta girl who's so hard to find.

Only when Locketta says "Let's find out who the lovely girl tribute is, shall we?" excitedly and reveals the victim, "Annie Cresta!" do I spot her in the midst of the sixteen-year-old crowd.

"I was right, then," I mutter. I had partially hoped that what I suspected wasn't true, but now, my fears have become reality.

I see the girl who had been with Cresta earlier standing next to her with a horrified expression on her face. Annie Cresta herself is terrified, and remains standing, frozen. I don't blame her. She's certainly not the type to be training for the Games.

When there is no reaction, Locketta repeats, "Annie Cresta?"

Annie Cresta's eyes meet mine, then, and I nod at her, urging her on. If she doesn't step up, there will be consequences she wouldn't want to face.

She begins to move. Slowly. Painfully.

I don't want to watch this. I want to be anywhere but here. Out by the sea, listening to the waves and tying knots...

Mags nudges me, and I blink when I see that she's on stage.

"Ohh!" Locketta squeals suddenly. She has just picked the boy's name. I know who it is, but...please let me be wrong...

"Davis Odair!" My brother's eyes are wide with surprise, but he doesn't hesitate as he climbs onto the stage. Locketta doesn't ask for volunteers.

I groan. My suspicions are right. Ding! Give Finnick Odair a prize!

"This year's Games will certainly be promising," Locketta remarks cheerfully. Great Panem, I absolutely despise Capitol women. Have I mentioned how annoyingly _girly _they are? And Locketta...I just can't stand her, but I have to admit she shares some of the most interesting secrets with me. Like the fact that Snow secretly keeps a pet cat somewhere in his private home. How she knows this, I've no idea, but it's certainly something to consider. I mean, if someone really wanted to piss Snow off, they could march into his home and strangle his cat. Then he'd be _really _pissed off.

"Tributes, shake hands!" Her words bring me back to reality. Dave gives Annie Cresta's hand a single shake, and Locketta announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you...the tributes of District Four!"

I stand, about to enter the Justice building with Mags, when I notice another girl push her way to the stage. She reminds me so much of Annie Cresta, I immediately see that she's her sister.

"Annie!" The girl screams. Yup, definitely related to Cresta. A few Peacekeepers immediately move forward, attempting to push her back. She bravely ignores them. She's got spirit, I'll give her that much. As I'm watching the chaos, she turns and stares pleadingly at me. "Finnick Odair!" she calls out, desperately. "Please, I'm begging you! Get Annie out, alive!"

_Don't worry, because that's what I'm planning_, I want to reassure her, but that's when one Peacekeeper pulls out his gun and points it in her back. She doesn't pay him any attention and continues to look at me, and I know I'll never be able to forget that look for as long as I live.

The Crestas all have some talent of getting to me, I'm thinking, and that's when the gunshot is heard, followed by a piercing scream. The scream doesn't belong to her sister. It belongs to an older woman, someone I'm sure is her mother, and she collapses on top of the now-dead girl's body.

The crowds are pushing, and there is more screaming, and everything is a mess. I'm being ushered inside, and Mags is following me, and then I see my own mother bend over the Crestas' mother. Her eyes meet mine, and I mouth the words, "Watch over her," gesturing to Cresta's mother's broken form as she sobs for her child's death.

"Take care, Finn!" I can barely make out Mother's words as the doors close behind me.

The Capitol have taken both of her children away, now, and it's all my fault. I will be back to see her, yet it has never been the same since I won. I know she wouldn't want Davis to suffer a similar fate.

Everything is my fault.

But I swear I will get Annie Cresta out of the arena, alive, because I will show Snow that he isn't the one in charge of _everything_.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I really don't get the point of disclaimers, because _clearly _I own the Hunger Games and I am writing on a fanfiction website because I'm weird like that. **

**A/N: Fourth chapter of the companion to _Finnick's Charm _told from Finnick's POV! (Note: it will not be updated very often, due to school reasons. I hope you understand.) **

**(the cat explains where the cat food comes from. But I didn't actually put the cat food to good use in _Finnick's Charm _because everyone started dying off. Oops.) **

** XD Reviews motivate me to write more, as I've said before (hey, that rhymes!). So...don't be scared to comment! I won't bite! Thank you to all who have reviewed so far! :D and I will update when I can, but I can't promise anything! **


	5. Chapter 5

I pace back and forth. The time ticking by was killing me. The sooner we leave District Four, the better I'll feel. Although the Capitol itself wasn't a tempting thought, I couldn't bare to be in this place any longer. There has been too much sadness lately, especially with Cresta's sister's death and the commotion which followed.

The door opens then, and my mother steps out. I can see the tears in her eyes. She had to say goodbye to her second son, and I know how hard it must be for her. I try to smile at her, wanting desperately to tell her that everything will be fine, but of course it wouldn't be and my smile comes out as more of a frown.

For a moment, I think, _it's all my fault_. The peacekeepers half-drag her away, but she meets my eyes. "I'll watch over her, I promise," she calls out, and hastily wipes away the tears before she's gone. I don't know when will be the next time I'll see her.

I don't know when I'll get to see her again.

The door to Annie Cresta's room opens, and a girl about her age walks into the hall. She frowns at me, as though I've done something awful to her in my past life. Which I haven't. "Make sure she wins, Odair," she says tightly. "Or, so help me, I'll kill every one who's responsible for her death. Including you."

"Harsh, very harsh," I respond without emotion. I'm not going to tell her my plan; it's too easily to overhear with the peacekeepers about.

I'm surprised that the peacekeepers don't lock her up with that kind of a threat. They probably think she's just a helpless girl. They herd her away, and Locketta claps her hands so close to me I almost jump. _Almost_. I haven't even noticed her appear next to me. "Alright, let's get going, shall we?" she says, as Davis and Annie Cresta too come out of their rooms. There are more peacekeepers swarming around to keep an eye on them. "Wouldn't want to fall behind schedule!"

Annie's eyes are red. Has she been crying? She hastily wipes her eyes when she notices that I'm staring at her, and scowls at me with a look that screams, "_Thanks for dragging me into this mess"_.

I cringe. It's not like I wanted to involve someone so innocent like her.

"Oi, Cresta!" I call, but she simply turns her head away. Now's not the time for a conversation, I know, yet somehow I want her to know the truth.

"Don't come near me!" She growls, and I can hear the shaking in her voice as she speaks. It's obvious she has been crying, and I can tell she's trying to hide it from me. Not just me...from Panem, too. There has been to much sadness today.

I wonder, did she cry in front of her nameless friend? Or is she the type to keep everything to herself...?

Only then do I realize that she's one mystery I won't be getting the answer to. There's absolutely no chance she'll willingly tell me her secrets, and this will be a challenge in itself.

_Well, Annie Cresta, challenge accepted. I'll get you to fall for my charm if it's the last thing I do!_

Now wasn't a good time to be making such a vow, but I really couldn't help it. I am Finnick Odair, and I love every type of challenge.

Mags pats me reassuringly, mistaking my tension. I give her a pained smile. We don't speak as Locketta steers us in the direction of the waiting train.

"Dinner!" Locketta announces to no one in particular as soon as we stepped onto the train and the doors slide close.

I glance at Annie, and she appears to be somewhat better after her ordeal. We gather around the dining table, with Annie sitting beside Dave and I beside Mags. I feel slightly guilty, then, that I will be responsible for my own brother's death. Would I shed tears for him, like what Annie did for her sister...?

It's silent. Too silent for my liking. Well, it's only silent if you don't count Locketta's constant chattering.

I study Annie again, and I'm glad that she's eating. Capitol food had this sort of affect on you.

It was a good time to announce who's mentoring who, and so I nudge Mags. With a nod, she speaks up. "No mentor siblings."

"What?" Locketta says rather rudely.

"She's reminding us that siblings are not permitted to mentor each other," I reconfirm Mag's words dryly, annoyed with Locketta's attitude towards my former mentor.

Mags nods—whether to agree with me, or whether she's thankful that I was standing up to her, I'll probably never know.

"That's nice to hear," Annie comments sarcastically, "Of course I'm looking forward to being mentored by the oh-so-famous Finnick Odair."

I groan inwardly, then remind myself that it was a plus she's acting naturally. If she looked weak as a result of her sister's death, she would never stand a chance. I see that she's waiting for me to speak, so I force out, "Just call me Finnick." Smooth, Finnick. Very smooth.

"Why?" she asks coolly, "Are you afraid that after I'll die, I'll come and haunt you? That I'll follow you around and whisper _Fiiinnniiick Ooodaaiiir_ all day?"

It looks like she's got some potential after all. Her emotions aren't affecting her, which is a big advantage during the actual Games. Her remark causes Dave to begin laughing, and I feel my own lips lifting upward in anticipation. She isn't as weak as I first thought, and that is a good sign. _"Thank you,_" I mouth to her, not caring whether she understood my real meaning or not.

The confusion on her face is my answer, but nevertheless she answers by whispering, "You're welcome."

I grin. Oh, she's quite the innocent one. I think I could grow to like her, despite whatever her opinions are about me. With a sudden urge to tease her, I offer her some of the sugar cubes I had began to munch on. They really are quite tasty. "Want a sugar cube, Annie?"

"Ugh, no thanks," she says, making a face. Ah, definitely innocent. I bet she has never dated anybody in her life. Well, it's not like I should be thinking about _that_...

"I'll take one if she doesn't," Dave cuts in, and snatches them from me before I could pull my hand back.

I let out a sigh. "And here I was, trying to be friendly." Well, I wasn't _really_, but I couldn't very well tell her that, now, could I?

"Don't bother," she shoots back. "Especially if I'm going to die in a few days anyway. All your attempts at friendship will be wasted when my dead body is carried off by the helicopter."

Doesn't she just love being on the bright side? "Talk about being a pessimist," I remark casually. "There is a chance that you can still win." Oh, she will win. That I promise you, Snow.

"If I do win, I'll go fangirly all over you," she smirks.

I know what she's implying. That she won't win, so she will never go fangirly over me. If there's anyone I don't want to fangirly over me, it's her. Please, for the love of Panem, let there be one sane person in this world who will see me as someone other than just a sex machine! I'm hoping Cresta would get this honor, but, well, I'll never know for sure.

She hates me for all I know.

I shudder. "I'd rather you not go fangirly over me," I mumble under my breath, then scoop up another handful of sugar cubes and drops them onto her plate in an attempt to change the subject. "Here, try some. They're pretty good."

"Did I say I wanted any?" Cresta says, but in the end she gives in and pops one into her mouth. I can be quite good at persuading others. "If I do become addicted to these, it'll be all your fault," she adds as she swallows it. Ha!

She continues tasting the different Capitol-style foods. Despite us coming from a Career district, the food is quite different in the Capitol, so it's not new for someone to be interested in them for the first few days.

Frankly, I've had so much Capitol food it makes me sick just thinking about it. "If you do need help choosing something to eat, feel free to ask me," I offer. At her questioning look, I add, "I've been in the Capitol _way_ too many times."

Annie shrugs my offer off, and as she reaches forward to take a slice of cake, the expression on her face changes abruptly as though she had just remembered something important. "I think I'm full," she announces disgustedly, and stands up from the table.

I can't blame her. Her sister has just died, and she still believes she doesn't have a chance to win. It's natural to loose one's appetite, but I hope she doesn't do it often. Building strength is crucial in the Games.

"I'll take you to your room, then," Locketta declares while wiping her mouth neatly.

"Wait, Cresta," I drawl out, noticing the crumbs littered over her mouth. Her lips have quite a nice shape...

"What?"

Before she can move, I'm by her side, and I brush the side of her lips with my thumb. She stiffens. Feeling satisfied, I elaborate, "There's a few crumbs you forgot to get rid of."

"Couldn't you have just _told _me?" she snorts, clearly annoyed by my act. But I can see that her cheeks are now tinted red, and I grin. "Locketta, come on. I really don't want to stay in here a moment longer," she declares to the escort.

I look back to where Mags and Davis are still sitting by the table, and Mags smiles at me. Davis even gives me a thumbs up. "Be good, eh?" I ruffle Davis' hair before I stroll out after Locketta and Annie.

Locketta is speaking so loudly I can hear her all the way down the aisle. It's not long before her voice dies down (thank Panem), and I decide to pay Annie a visit to check on how well she's coping. I find her lying with her face down on the extravagant bed, and I catch her whispering, "I miss my room at home..."

"I can imagine," I say, and lean against the doorframe as she lifts her head to locate the speaker.

Her face flushes, and I find that I rather like her blush. It's sweet, like sugar cubes. "Get out of my room, you pervert!" she screams, and grabbing the pillow nearest to her, she flings it in my direction.

I shift sideways, and the pillow misses me by quite a bit. "Nice aim," I remark as I stride in and sit down next to her. She gives me an untrusting glare.

"I don't need _your _consolation," she spits out angrily. Ah, little Annie, but I'm not here to _console_ you. I'm not the consoling type. I'm more of the checking-up-on-people-I-find-interesting-to-tease-them type. I don't answer her, and after a long silence, she asks quietly, "What's...what's it like?"

"What's what like?" I prompt.

She pauses before muttering, "Being in the arena?"

Oh. _Oh_. Well, I'm impressed that she's already thinking about it. Absently, I take her hand and begin drawing circles in her palm. It takes a while for me to answer, but when I do, I say, "You get used to it. If you don't, you die."

"Talk about being a pessimist," she says, using the very same words I had used earlier. Huh, she's fiery.

I smile sadly. "If you want to get out of the arena alive, Annie Cresta, then I suggest you start listening to me." Because by listening to me, she'll be able to survive. I promise her that much, and when I make promises, I don't break them so easily.

What about your brother?" she points out, and her question is interrupted with a yawn. I place a hand on the top of her head and guide it down, so she ends up lying on my lap. She'll need all the sleep she can get.

"He'll have to manage without me," I answer finally. I know if Davis was here, he would hate me for my choice. But it's for the best.

_It's for the best_, I repeat in my head..._Is it? _

I need time to think of a strategy for her, and somehow I find that now, with her this close to me, would be the best time. So, I tell her gently to go to sleep, and eventually she dozes off and leaves me in peace.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I really don't get the point of disclaimers, because _clearly _I own the Hunger Games and I am writing on a fanfiction website because I'm weird like that. **

**A/N: Oh, I know how much you all want me to update, but I have a life, too! Besides, I know of some authors who takes _years _to update, so a few days isn't that long, is it? I'll update when I get the chance, so please be patient. And, there's always Finnick's Charm to read (again) while waiting. ;)**

**And, due to the lack of updating, this chapter is quite the bit longer. **

**I'm sorry if Finnick sounds like a girl /shot/.. I'm not that used to writing guy POVs. **


	6. Chapter 6

I don't stay with Cresta for long. Who knows what methods Snow uses to keep an eye on me? I gently shift her body so she's lying on the bed and slip the covers over her. For the first time since we met, I am able to look at her properly, without her yelling at me. She has long, slightly wavy hair. And when she's asleep, when she's not hating me, she's quite pretty. Innocent.

I can't let her be involved with the Capitol.

I slip out of the room quietly and slide the door close, only to find myself bumping into Locketta. There's a playful look in her eyes, as though she's teasing me. "Is she your type, Finnick?" she asks half-jokingly, gesturing at Cresta's door.

"Perhaps," I respond mysteriously, giving her a wink. She giggles. "Not as close to my type as _you _are though, Miss Harmes."

At this, she can't take it any more. I know exactly how to handle Capitol woman. It's pathetic, really, but there's nothing else I can do. Locketta's cheeks flush bright red as she giggles again. "When are you free?"

I pretend to ponder this question quite seriously. "Possibly before the Games," I say, holding up one finger. "On one condition. You will sponsor our tributes."

"Hmm, I'm not sure whether that's allowed, Finnick. Are escorts permitted to sponsor their District tributes? You charge for secrets these days, too. How about I tell you some more interesting facts about a certain wintery man?" she waggles her eyebrows at me suggestively.

A certain wintery man. I've never heard Snow described as such before. It's rather...interesting. I grin at her. "You're on," I tell her. "Looking forward to our little rendezvous, Miss Harmes."

She nods in satisfaction and dances away, leaving me standing outside of Cresta's compartment. I slowly turn towards my own room.

Just as I take off my shirt and prepare to sleep, I hear a hesitant knock on my door. "Finn? You awake?"

It's Davis.

"Yeah, I'm awake," I answer.

The door slides open, revealing Davis in fancy Capitol pajamas. He wrinkles his nose when he notices me stare at him. "This material is awful," he announces boldly.

I press a finger to my lips.

"What? Do you really think they'd murder me just because I'm criticizing their clothing material?" Davis snorts.

I know how he's feeling right now. When he's scared, he complains. He pulls on a brave face and acts as though he's fine, but in reality, he's shaking inside, so he covers that up by acting sarcastic. "You're scared," I say simply.

For a moment, he doesn't respond. Then he lowers his head in shame. "I suppose I am," he says at last. "I know I shouldn't be scared. I should feel honored for being a tribute. Hell, I've even been _practicing _for this, Finn!" Exasperated, he plops down next to me on my bed. "I mean, I have my life ahead of me, but there's always that chance of dying in the arena. And you never know what will happen once you're in there. But...you won when you were my age, right? I'm sure I can win, too!"

I want to tell him that he won't win. I want to tell him that it will be Annie Cresta who steps out of that arena, alive, because I owe it to the Crestas for getting one of their children out, at least, after failing them once. I want to tell him that the Games is more than just about winning in the arena. It's about what happens _after _the win. But I can't tell him all this. I don't have the heart to. I can't make him any more scared than he already is.

Why, Panem, must you torture me so? Why must you make me choose between my little brother and a girl who hates my guts? The choice should be obvious, but I can't let Davis suffer the same way I have.

"Finn?" Davis prods me in my side when he notices that I haven't responded.

"Yeah," I say, my voice tight. "You'll win."

Dave opens his mouth but closes it again. He probably notices that I'm not telling the truth.

He stands up to leave, but not before turning to fix his eyes on me. "Oh, and Finn? Thanks for coming back for my birthday. It's my most important one, after all.

"Yeah. No problem." I say dully. I can't help but think that if I hadn't returned for his birthday, Dave would never have been reaped. He shouldn't be thanking me for coming back. He should be hating me.

But now wasn't the time to be thinking about that. I should be thinking of strategies for Cresta. She _has _to win. I won't allow another Cresta to slip through my hands. Not after Dany. What is she good at, anyway? Besides knots?

"What's wrong?" Davis prompts. "You're acting like you're...far away."

I shake my head. "Nothing's wrong, Dave. Go get some sleep. You'll need it." The tone I use with him is final, and with a sigh, he leaves me alone in my prison.

I collapse onto my bed, recalling strategies used by tributes from past games. Could she act like Johanna Mason, pretending to be weak until the final tributes remain? No, it wouldn't work. There's no way she would kill anyone, that I'm sure of. Despite her fiery personality around me, she isn't the killing type...

With thoughts of Annie Cresta in my mind, I doze off. I know there won't be another night as peaceful as this when I'm in the Capitol.

But I'm wrong. The night wasn't peaceful. Not at all. Sometime in the early morning, I wake to a shrill scream. It's filled with horror and sadness and pain, and I know at once who it belongs to.

Cresta.

Not even bothering to slip on a shirt, I stumble out of the compartment and into hers. She's awake, sitting upright, and her eyes are wide when she sees me by the door.

"Annie? What happened?" I ask her, trying to remain calm. But I can't hide the alarm from my voice.

She remains silent, staring off into space. Quietly, I walk toward her and sit down next to her, and wrap my arms around her frail body. "Shh," I whisper soothingly, "It's alright. You're safe."

"It was awful," she manages finally. Her voice is hoarse from the screaming. Concluding that she's not hating me at the moment, I shift so that she is able to bury her head into my chest. Her body shakes with sobs. "F-Finnick?"

"Yes?" I hold my breath, waiting for whatever she is about to say next.

"You don't think Ellie blames me for her death, do you? She has to. She said so herself...that this is all my fault. Oh, I'm a dreadful person...Ellie's dead because of me...She's going to kill me..." She says this all in one breath. I can feel her shivering in my arms, and I tighten them around her.

Ellie must be her sister, the one who was shot by the peacekeeper yesterday. I am surprised that she is able to hide her sadness and fear for her sister's death until now. I don't blame her for breaking. "It was only a dream," I tell her now, firmly.

"It was real," she insists, shaking her head. "Why else would there be cannons? Oh, I'll never get out of the arena alive...Ellie, I'm so sorry..."

"No, Annie. You _will _get out of the arena alive. And I'm going to help you, not just because it was what your sister asked," I reassure her. "Because...if anyone is to blame for both you and Davis getting reaped, it's me," I add quietly, thinking back to my encounter with the peacekeeper yesterday. It was only a while ago, but that morning on the beach feels like lifetimes away.

My heart is torn. I can't save them both, no matter how much I want to. I'm Finnick Odair, but it appears that I _can't _do everything, after all.

Cresta breaks me out of my thoughts. "What do you mean, you're the one to blame?"

I shift nervously. "There are ears everywhere," I point out. She stares at me, mystified, and I continue, "I'll explain it to you when there's a more appropriate place for...private matters." She deserves to know, at least. I quickly check the clock that adorns the wall of the chamber. "You should get ready. We're going to arrive in the Capitol any moment."

"And what about you? Are you really just going to step out of the train in nothing but..._that_?" she means that I am shirtless. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. She's feeling better, at least, and that's what is the most important thing right now. She can't appear weak in front of the Capitol.

"Oh, but the Capitol loves it when I'm wearing nothing but _this_," I say lightly.

"Well, I don't," she bits back, but I can't help but feel triumphant when I notice the red tinge on her cheeks. She's cute when she blushes like that. "Go and change, before someone gets the wrong idea. Someone like...Locketta."

I see what she means when I look up to find Locketta staring back at us.

"Well, isn't this the cutest thing?" she gushes.

"It's not what it looks like!" Cresta protests, pushing me off her bed too quickly, the red on her cheeks deepening.

"Oh, really?" Locketta winks at her. "Finnick, please leave, so Annie can change. We're behind schedule already."

I smirk. "Oh, I wouldn't mind staying..."

Cresta picks up a pillow threateningly. "Hey!" she complains, flushing.

I hold up my hands in defeat and escape from the room. I don't have to spend a lot of time preparing, because it's true that the Capitol adores me when I step out looking as though I have just woken up. Once I've finished, I find Locketta impatiently waiting for us by the exit doors.

"There you are, Finnick," she says. "What was that you were saying about Annie not being your type?"

I really isn't in the mood to be discussing this with her. "What's today's plan?" I ask instead, changing the subject.

She pouts, but I ignore her. There are more important things we should be talking about, thinks like... "We'll have breakfast first," she says grudgingly, clearly not happy with me avoiding her question. But I'm spared from having to converse with her further, for that's when Dave and Cresta join us.

"Thanks for the wake up call," Dave says to Cresta. I'm glad they're at least friendly with each other, rather than acting as though they were already enemies. That's the worse. When you're in the arena, your fellow district tribute should be your closest ally. That's what I believe, anyway.

"What?" Cresta asks in confusion.

Dave elaborates with a smirk. His smirk is a lot like mine, in fact, he looks hauntingly like a younger version of me. "With all that screaming."

"Uh..." Cresta seems to be struggling with words. She finally decides on, "At least Locketta won't have to say how behind schedule we are now."

"She complains about being behind schedule even if we're early," Dave says. Cresta manages a smile, and she turns to gap at the station as the train pulls in.

"Welcome to the Capitol," Locketta announces, returning to her usual cheerful mood.

Cresta and Dave's eyes widen with wonder at the sight of the Capitol, but my reaction to the place is the exact opposite. My stomach sinks.

_I'm back._

* * *

**A/n: I apologize for the lack of updating. I really do. I hope you haven't given up on this story...*runs and hides in a corner***

**This chapter is a lot longer..but anyway. Please review? **


	7. Chapter 7

There's too many people.

That's the first thing I notice when we step off the train, because Cresta's face is scrunched up in disgust at the cheers from the crowds that had gathered around us. But of course, I can't do anything about it, so I do what I always do. The closest woman next to me is covered in something blue, and I take her hand and kiss it, winking at her as I do so.

She actually faints.

The Capitol citizens are too easy to manipulate.

Cresta rolls her eyes beside me, and I can tell that she's not impressed with the act.

Locketta huffs in annoyance. "We're coming through," she announces loudly, shooing people out of the way so we have room to move.

I let out a breath when we finally see the car waiting for us, and thank Panem it's big, because otherwise it would be impossible to fit Mags, Locketta and I into the front. The trip to the City Circle isn't long, and we climb out of the car as it pulls to a stop. Being the gentleman that I am, I open Cresta's door for her as she stumbles out.

"At last," Cresta says with a sigh of relief, "I don't want to experience something like that _ever _again."

Recalling our earlier conversation on the train, I jokingly sling an arm over her shoulders and say, "I told you how much the Capitol loves me."

At once, she pulls away from me as though my touch stings, and she retorts heatedly, "_I _don't love you."

"Ah, but you're not from the Capitol," I say, and for some reason I can't stop myself from smiling. It's a genuine smile, not like the ones I pull in front of the Capitol women. Davis raises an eyebrow at this, because he knows how I rarely smile outside our home, and I don't know what it is about Annie Cresta that makes me feel so at ease.

Maybe it's because she doesn't fawn over me like the rest of them.

Cresta's rumbling stomach breaks me out of my thoughts. "Oh, dear, little Miss Annie is hungry," I tease her lightly, "We should satisfy her hunger at once. Or else we'll have to feel her wrath, and it's very unpleasant!" I pretend to shudder at the thought.

"Oh, shut up," she mumbles as we follow Locketta into the dining room.

To my slight disappointment, she sits down next to Dave. "Not sitting next to me, Miss Annie?" I ask, just to taunt her. I don't know what it is, but I find myself enjoying our conversations, even if she is still angry at me. Maybe it also has something to do with the fact that I have not had a proper conversation with a girl in five years, and Annie, to me, is a break from everything else. "Aw, come on. I don't bite!"

"Not in a million years," she snorts, "Do me a favor and don't talk for the next half hour, will you?"

I play along. "I thought mentors are supposed to give tributes advice. How am I ever going to do that if I can't talk?"

Annie points her knife in Mags' direction. "Mags can mentor both me and Davis, then."

"It's against rules," Mags points out, but she's shaking her head bemusedly.

Of course. Those rules.

I change the subject because I don't want to discuss the rules any longer. I decide that I should actually tell her something useful. "Oh, and Cresta? Here's a piece of advice: don't complain."

"Are you just saying that to get on my nerves?"

Geez. "My dear Annie, of course not! Why, did you think I'm _that _bad? I'm talking about when your prep team gives you your drastic makeover!" I say this dramatically, pretending that her words hurt. Which, deep down, I realize that they _do _hurt. Just a little bit.

But nonetheless, it does hurt, and I don't know why. She's one hell of a mystery.

I mean, I'm her mentor, so she's supposed to listen to my advice, right? That must be why. She acts like she doesn't need me. Yeah, that must be it. As I try to sort my thoughts, she bits out, "I'll keep that in mind."

The rest of breakfast passes by quickly, and it's not long before I must find my own stylist, because I have to look good in front of everyone, too, but there's something I must do first.

I need to speak to Sandra, Annie's stylist. I have to give her proper instructions, because the opening ceremonies are just as important as the reaping and training scores. Even more so. And Annie's life is on the line.

I briefly wonder when I began to call her Annie rather than Cresta in my mind, and I shrug to myself. Now was no time to think about that.

"You know, speaking to yourself is quite common, but I've never seen someone trying to communicate with themselves via body language. That's a first."

Just the person I am looking for. "Ah, Sandra," I say with a grin, turning to face her, "but I'm Finnick Odair, and to me body language perhaps is even _more _important than words, if you know what I mean."

She shoves me to the side, and I'm glad to have her company, because she's also part of the not-a-Finnick-Odair-fan club. "Yeah, right, Odair. You're the girl's mentor, right?" she asks, changing into her businesslike tone.

"The one and only," I announce, and rip off my shirt and strike a pose in front of her.

"Well, that'll make your stylist's job easier," she mutters under her breath, unimpressed with my stripping, and then straightens up again. "So, I take it that you're looking for me? I wanted your opinion on the matter, too, seeing that she's your tribute."

_My _tribute. I quite like the sound of that. "What do you have in mind, Sandra?"

"Follow me," she says briskly, and lead me into the room where Annie will be dressed up in later. She plops the giant album on the table and flip it open. "These are the designs I've been working on for the last few years," she explains, flipping page after page as she points out each one.

I stare at the photos of the costume designs. Some are just ridiculous, like fish costumes and shark fins and even bikinis. Then my breath catches in my throat as she flips another page, and on it is a mermaid costume and it suits Annie so well it's like it's specifically made with her in mind.

"Stop," I tell her, and her hand freezes above the page.

"So you're thinking of the innocent look this time, huh?"

I nod. "Yes. She's innocent, and the dress will reflect it well."

"That's not your usual style," she says, sounding rather surprised. "You always have me use the deadliest."

"But it's Annie's style," I say, and I can't help but smile fondly just at the thought of her.

She closes the book. "I do believe I have just witnessed a miracle, Odair," she says suddenly. At my questioning look, she adds, "I have never once seen you smile so radiantly. It makes all your other smiles look...fake in comparison. This is just a suggestion, but perhaps you should think of her more often." And then she's hurrying away, leaving me staring after her.

Am I really that obvious?

I shake my head as I go off to find and meet up with my own stylist, Drake.

"Good to see you again, Finnick," he says gruffly in greeting. I can only nod in return, because Sandra's words are still in my mind and I can't seem to stop thinking about my tribute.

Drake gets to business right away, and he instructs me to take off the rest of my clothes (I'm still shirtless from my earlier stripping) and slip on the suit. While he does so, my mind automatically wanders to Annie. I've been doing that quite often these days, I realize.

"Do you have any pearls, Drake?" I ask into the silence, "_Real_ pearls?" Hopefully he does, as he's a stylist and has practically every material in existence for his clothing designs.

He stares at me incredulously. "I don't think pearls go well with that suit, Finnick," he says as he dabs a few touches of glitter onto my cheeks.

"No," I explain shortly. "It's not for me. It's for...my tribute."

"Ah," says Drake knowingly, and goes off to one of the cabinets. After much fumbling, he places a single pearl in my palm. "Here you go. If you don't mind me asking, what do you plan on doing with it?"

I don't hesitate when I answer, "It's for her District token. Something that'll remind her of home."

There's another few moments of silence, and then Drake asks rather hesitantly, "You've...taken a liking to her, haven't you?"

"You could say that," I agree softly.

A few minutes later, I beam at the masterpiece in my hands. It's a simple necklace, consisting of a single pearl (Drake reassures me that it's from District Four) knotted expertly onto netting rope.

"What are you waiting for, Finnick? Go give it to her," Drake says, ushering me out of the room. "And, you're done, too. Go on."

"Thanks, Drake," I tell him serenely. "I owe you one."

I'm so excited that I don't even bother to knock on the door. Annie whirls around, her eyes wide, and as my eyes quickly sweep over her form, I know that I made the right choice with her costume.

It's perfect.

"Ah, Mr. Odair," Sandra says, grinning, "Just in time! She's ready."

My hand clenches the necklace I made her and pull it out of my pant pocket. "Not yet. One more thing," I say casually. I tie it around her neck in the sturdiest knot I know, and my fingers brush against her bare skin as they work. "Would you do _me _a favor and keep it as your District token?" I ask, hoping desperately that she will say yes.

For once, she doesn't hate me, because even though her response is so soft I barely catch it, it's there. "Of course."

At least it's a development from our previous hate-indifferent relationship, with her doing the hating and me doing my best to act indifferent around her. I don't know when she became more than just a part of my battle with Snow.

It's almost as if...almost as if she crept up on me.

"Thank you, my little mermaid," I say to her now. "Now, let's go out there and give the Capitol something to talk about."

* * *

**A/n: I apologize for the lack of updating. I really do. I hope you haven't given up on this story...reviews definitely help let me know whether you guys are still interested. *hint hint**

**So...leave a review and let me know what you think?**


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